Tango & Little Threads
by Simplicity Is Bliss
Summary: A pair of stories; one, a tale of warmth and love, the second one of desperation and cold. The story of Remus and Tonks.
1. Tango

Remus had fallen in love with tango at a young age. His mum's Aunt Doreen had married an older Spanish gentleman named Franco, who had played it professionally for a few years before the Spanish Civil War. In 1938, it had become too much and he fled to England, where he married Doreen and started a family.

Franco would always round up a few of his friends to play with him at family gatherings and Remus had always loved to watch his dad swirl around the backyard with his mum; they looked happy in the soft golden lantern light. Franco always laughed, telling them, "No, Johhhhn, Laura, you are not doing it right!" He would get up from his creaky wooden chair and shuffle across the wet, green grass to Remus's parents and gently push them a little closer together. "There," he would say with an affectionate smile. "Now, now you are doing it right."  
He would wink at Remus's father and go back to his chair, lighting up another cigarette as he went. Franco would then pick up his guitar and slip right back into the music, as if he had never put down the instrument.

* * *

Tonks had discovered his affection for tango by riffling through his record collection one day and and been bent on dragging him to a tango dance hall ever since. Today, he gave in.

"All right, all right," he had said when she had showed up in a little red dress and sexy, strappy ruby heels, "We can go tonight." he gave her an appreciative once over. "You look gorgeous, by the way."

A light blush warmed her cheeks. "Thank you."

He smiled and pulled her closer, resting a hand on her hip. "What should I wear then, hm? You know how helpless I am when it comes to things beyond cardigans and jeans."

Tonks rolled her eyes, "I _do_ know. Sirius must have been the one to dress you all those years," she replied before eying him. "Your black suit with the skinny tie should be perfect."

Remus nodded, "Ok. What about my black fedora hat?"

She rolled her eyes at him and smiled, "Well see, Remus. Put it on when you come out and we'll see if it goes."

"Yes, M'am," he nodded, almost doleful as he turned around and started to trudge to the bedroom.

"That's right, little man!" Tonks called after Remus with a chuckle, jokingly shaking her fist at him.

He turned halfway around and stuck his tongue out at her. She raised an eyebrow and shook her head at him as he went to get dressed.

The restaurant was relatively small, with jasmine and trumpet flowers crawling on the canopy over the patio area. In the middle of the patio was a huge dance floor, with a handful of couples already on it, and surrounded by a number small tables. Each table had a small golden candle, glimmering silverware, and delicate china plates.

"Tonks..." he said quietly and stopped before the ivy-twinned gate that lead into the restaurant.

"What?" she asked. "Last time we went out, you paid. It's my turn now and we're eating where I want." She disentangled her arms from his and gave him a challenging look.

He pursed his lips at her and followed her when she went in.

They were seated a few minutes later and there was a few minutes of tension when they were actually ordering. But after the waiter took menus, the tension eased and the music sank into Remus's consciousness, everything settled down and they talked, gossiped, and traded witticisms.

Tonks suddenly looked wicked, "We need to prank the twins. I don't know about you, but they've gotten a few too many over on me and I'd like to give them a taste of their own medicine."

Remus was amused, "What, still bitter about them replacing your lotion with banana pudding?"

She sniffed, pretending to be offended, "I was over that long ago. No, this is about initiating a prank war. I think we can win if we team up. I mean, I'm hopelessly outmatched without your pranking genius on my side."

"Flatterer," Remus replied with a chuckle. "But what if I side with them?"

"Then you, sir, shall be a lonely man," she said with a smirk.

"The horror," he responded dryly, before adding with a smile, "No, I swear I'll be on your side."

"All the time, or only some?" Tonks asked with a laugh, "I'd not put it past you to help them once in a while."

"Once in a while," he agreed. "But a prank war is not 'once in a while.'"

"All right, then. We shall have to begin plotting...after we dance." She grinned at him and pulled him on to the dance floor. Lanterns, threaded on wire above the dance floor, cast her in soft gold. Tonks grinned at him again and pulled up close. Remus took one of her hands and she settled the other on his shoulder as they began to dance.


	2. Little Threads

Remus loved Tonks. He thought. She was beautiful, clever, funny, and strong, but it was hard to know for sure. He found it hard to see love in the tangle of emotions that war stirred up. Little red threads of passion were lost amongst the gnarled black cords of anxiety and helpless rage. Pink, slender strings of love were snapped by war's fury.

What he _did_ know was that she was here and that she was nearly all he had. He had learned his lesson last time - you clutch what you have, while you have it. While Tonks would have him, he would have her.


End file.
